


A dream and a well

by ajoy3



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:20:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29143602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajoy3/pseuds/ajoy3
Kudos: 4





	A dream and a well

# A dream and a well

_**Kagome** _

I keep having the same dream.

It seems ordinary, at first. Mid day, the sun high and warm, the trees shading me from the brunt of it, little slivers of golden rays breaking though the canopy. Even in my dream, I know this seems too picturesque; but I thought that a lot, back then, in the feudal era. When I was home.

I keep walking, my brown loafers feel worn and a bit snug. It’s time to get new ones, i think; there’s no way I could show up to school in these, if I ever get back to school. I head in the direction I always do- I’m not even thinking as I walk to the well. It’s all auto pilot, but it feels like I haven’t been here in a long time, far too long. The path seems like an old friend, one that’s been waiting for me to return, and I bask for a moment in the familiar feel.

I can see him there, waiting, but I don’t know why. He couldn’t be waiting for me, I’m right here. Is he going back without me? Is he nervous to journey alone? Somehow, it feels like something else. He makes no move, he just _waits_.

He looks unreal, too striking for this world, but catching a glimpse of him always leaves me hungry. I’m surprised he hasn’t noticed me; I can see the strain in his biceps as he clutches the lip of the well, his eyes closed, breathing even, steady but heavy. It looks almost like he’s saying a prayer, the way he’s wordlessly moving his lips, but that would be odd; the well is neither god nor shrine, just simply a way to transport. Why on earth would be pray?

I want to move, to go towards him, but I just feel stuck, and with one more deep breath, he leaps in, and I can hear the angry curse that leaves him and maybe for the first time ever, I hear him sound defeated. “ _Fuck_.” He hisses, so low and sad I can hardly hear him. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

Finally I seem able to move, as if i was released from an imaginary hold, and I move towards the well, so eager to get to him I nearly trip over my own feet. “Inuyasha!” I call, my voice sounding hoarse, raspy. “Inuyasha!” I try again.

“Kagome?!” He answers, shaky and unsure, but edgy with desperation.

I can see his hands first, long claws gripping the wood as he hoisted himself up, now suddenly in a rush to get out. “I-“ my voice fades, I can feel it burn away. I reach out- if I can get to him, if I can just touch him, then I can stay. It doesn’t make sense even as I think it, but I think it none the less. My outstretched hand disappears and suddenly I’m gone, just as he looks my way.

And then I wake, sweaty and tear stained, disappointed to find my body twisted in bed sheets instead of my sleeping bag. It happens this way, every three days. I could set my clock to it, schedule this splendid pain. It been 3 years, and the hurt hasn’t subsided, not enough to make a difference. At least in my sleep, I can see him, get a look at his form, take in his silent demeanor one more time. Is there someone else doing that now? Surely he must have moved on, found someone else to fill his nights with; its unrealistic to think he would spend his time by a well that would not open, waiting for me 500 years in the future. They all must have moved on, as they should. _As I should._

And yet here I am, 3 years later and wrapped up in him, still dreaming, just like always, _only_ dreaming about the man so far out of my grasp. After all these years I’m still left wondering, ‘does he ever think of me?’

I hope he does.


End file.
